


Fear The Wrath Of the Bookish

by RoozetteR



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Explicit Language, Humor, M/M, Out of Character, Parody, Romance, Sexual Content, Tragedy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-01-26
Updated: 2008-07-21
Packaged: 2018-09-30 11:41:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 6
Words: 16,014
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10162310
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RoozetteR/pseuds/RoozetteR
Summary: Hermione is tired of being teased for being smart. Somehow, this will make them think twice about teasing her. Well, at least the idea works in her head.





	1. Bite Me

**Author's Note:**

> Note from SeparatriX, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [HP Fandom](http://fanlore.org/wiki/HP_Fandom_\(archive\)), which was closed for health and financial reasons. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in August 2016. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [HP Fandom collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/hpfandom/profile).

DISCLAIMER: *sigh* I own nothing and never will. Promise.

WARNING: I have no excuses. In fact, I should be working on Chap 14 of my other story. But this thought will just not go away. My muse is a crack monkey.

Kisses!  
Roo

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

All alone in her room, sprawled across her bed, shoulders shaking and face buried in her pillow, the epitome of despair and indignation, Hermione Granger wept. 

She cried because of the cruel words Draco Malfoy sneered at her in the hallways, bawled because of the way those words hurt Harry and made him jump to defend both her and himself for befriending her; however odd and disjointed that notion may very well be. She positively howled that even though Ron Weasley muttered the correct platitudes, he along with most of the school secretly believed that she truly was an insipid little know-it-all. But, the real reason she locked herself in her room away from everyone, was because she couldn’t stomach the shame that she allowed people to get away with their words. 

Back in third year, Professor Lupin had called her the brightest witch of her generation. She didn’t feel like it though. Sure, she read everything she could get her hands on; delighting in the fact that she was expanding and improving her world through knowledge. After all, how many times had she helped Harry whenever he set off of any of his crackpot, inevitably life or death situations? Knowledge was power, she firmly believed, and power was necessary for control. But wouldn’t, shouldn’t, the smartest witch stand up for herself against bullies and idiots that berated her at every turn? Even back in third year, when she felt so strong and proud, she had only slapped Draco because he took such delight with messing with Harry’s mind.

Messing with Harry’s mind….

Could… she… 

That’s it! 

Sitting up abruptly, wiping her face irritably, Hermione quickly composed herself and flew to the library. Two hours later she let out a slightly possessed sounding giggle as the plan correlated. She hummed to herself as she charmed the book and muttered the correct spells. She paused, tapping her quill thoughtfully against her lips as she thought how to best formulate her revenge. She needed to be subtle, needed to accomplish this in such a way that no one would immediately presume she was responsible. If there was one thing being Harry’s friend over the years had taught her, it was how to be innocently conspicuous. 

She grinned, well pleased with herself, and tapped the book with her wand. “Trauminvasion.”

Now to wait for nightfall…

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Ron Weasley scowled to himself as he got ready for bed. Malfoy, that fucking ferret, had to go and prove what an utter bastard he was by taunting Hermione about her intelligence again. I mean, sure, everyone knew that she was obsessed… and kinda annoyingly a perfectionist… maybe even what Harry called “obsessive compulsive,” whatever that meant… but her heart was in the right place. She was a damn good mate and didn’t deserve to spend the afternoon crying with her feelings hurt. He scowled, nodding to himself. He would just have to get Harry to pick a fight with the blond git tomorrow. Harry would put Malfoy in his place. 

He yawned, stretching his back, before climbing into bed. “Night, Harry. Night, guys.”

“Night, Ron.”

He closed his curtains, rolled onto his back, and fell asleep faster than he thought possible. A bright light made him scowl, and he squinted his eyes open slightly, ready to yell at his roommates; only to widen them as he took in his surroundings. He was in a room, kneeling naked on the floor, hands tied behind his back and connected to the black leather tying his feet together. He looked around frantically, heart pumping blood through his body at an alarming rate, and tried to scream. It was then he became aware of three very important details. First, there was a gag in his mouth, preventing him from screaming or uttering any noise than a whimper or grunt. Second, Luna Lovegood was standing in front of him with a vaguely perplexed look on her face. Finally, Ron issued a muffled squeal when he noticed she was holding a whip in her hands; swishing it lazily about from side to side. 

The sound of distress drew her attention to him. She blinked. “Hello Ron,” Luna said dreamily. She tilted her head to the side, as though listening to silent instructions. “Someone wants me to punish you, but who….” Her expression cleared, replaced by a smirk. Ron shivered involuntarily. Luna smirking was oddly enough as frightening as those acromantula’s him and Harry had stumbled across in their second year. “We’re in a book,” the girl announced. Large protuberant eyes studied him silently for a minute. “Although you’ve never seemed the kind of person who enjoys role playing… actually, sometimes I wonder if you even enjoy reality.” Ron desperately wanted to comment on how weird that sounded coming from her of all people, but only managed to topple over onto his side as he pulled against his restraints. Luna shrugged, cracking the whip with an easy, practiced flick of her wrist. Ron’s blue eyes widened almost painfully. 

“Oh well.”

In his sleep, Ron’s body jerked, tightened, and spasmed, before a great shudder ripped through him. He whimpered and rolled onto his stomach. In his own bed, Harry Potter thrashed slightly back and forth, face marred up in a frown. “You want me to call you what?” he muttered to himself.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

“Potter.”

Harry blinked, looking around curiously at his surroundings. He was in a forest. A pretty forest with shiny leaves. He looked down, surprised to find himself wearing an all black outfit, before looking towards his left; searching for the origin of that too familiar drawl. His eyes narrowed involuntarily, only to widen in shock. “Malfoy?” he questioned stupidly.

Draco frowned, striding into the clearing. Only he didn’t look like himself… his hair was long, hanging halfway down his back, gliding silkily past his aristocratic features and pointy ears. Pointy ears?

“Malfoy, why do you have pointy ears?”

Gray eyes narrowed into a heated glare. “Potter,” he said contemptuously, “only you would focus on stupid and nonsensical questions.” Harry flushed. Draco smirked, satisfied, one hand casually rising to finger his ear. “Where the bloody hell are we?” He glared at Harry. “And why are you here?” Draco’s glare turned positively murderous. “Potter, I swear to god if you are indulging your idiotic need to save people, I will…” He broke off, gagging.

“You ok, Malfoy?” Harry asked warily, taking a hesitant step forward.

“No I am not ok,” Malfoy hissed, rubbing his throat. “For some reason I cannot insult you.” He looked like a beloved pet had just died. “And I have this asinine urge to refer to myself as Legolas.”

Harry blinked again. “You want me to call you what?”

“I want you to call me nothing! I don’t want you to be here!” Draco glared at Harry again. “Why are you here anyway, Strider?”

If Harry kept blinking like this he was sure to hurt himself. “What did you call me?”

Draco flushed. “I have no idea,” he bit out through gritted teeth. “What the fuck are you doing to me, Potter?”

Harry sighed, looking around. “I’m not doing anything, Malfoy. Last thing I remember was going to bed, and now…” he shrugged, gesturing to his surroundings. “At least this is a far more pleasant dream than I usually have.” Draco arched an eyebrow, smirking. Harry flushed. “Well, except having you here, anyways,” he muttered.

“Sure, Potter,” he drawled smoothly. “You probably dream about me frequently, don’t you?” Harry flushed, clenching his jaw shut to refrain from responding. Gray eyes gleamed maliciously. “That’s the only way you’ll ever best me, isn’t it, Potter? In your dreams?”

Harry launched himself at Draco, satisfied when his fist connected with the other boys jaw. Within minutes, the boys were wrestling together on the ground. Grunting and swearing and punching ever piece of each other they could get their hand on, until, at last, Draco pinned Harry to the forest floor and sat on him. “See Potter,” he gasped out, flipping his hair out of his face impatiently. “Can’t even best me in your dreams.”

“Right,” Harry said grimly. They stared at each other; breathing heavily and sweating. A strand of Draco’s hair brushed across Harry’s cheek, and he leaned into the sensation without though. God, who knew hair could feel like that against skin?

An odd gleam appeared in Draco’s eyes. “Malfoy?” Harry questioned warily; blaming the hitch in his voice on the fact that Malfoy was sitting on his waist. On the fact that if Malfoy shifted his hips just the tiniest fraction their groins would press… ahh.. just like that. Draco’s eyes flickered to Harry’s mouth. “Malfoy, what are you thinking?”

“Nothing,” Draco said absently. “I just have the strongest urge to…” He leaned down slightly, tracing the outline of Harry’s mouth with his tongue. Harry’s breath hitched again. Draco sat up, looking flustered. “I don’t know why I just…”

Harry cut him off by arcing his hips. And then they were rolling on the ground again, mouths pressed hungrily together, hips thrusting impatiently, hands roving in a much more pleasurable quest over chests and waists and ohgodohgod. “I really like you with pointy ears,” Harry whispered, sucking Draco’s earlobe into his mouth. 

Malfoy made a keening noise of pleasure. “You look really hot in black,” he gasped, fisting his hand in Harry’s hair and yanking. He ignored Harry’s yelp of pain – pleasure? – and bit down harshly on his collar bone. “I’ve always thought so.” He yanked Harry’s mouth back down to his, deciding that since this was obviously a delusion he could admit to himself that the leaves and grass in Harry’s hair looked sexy rather than sloppy.

Glazed green eyes met gray as they continued writhing against each other on the forest floor. “God I hate you,” Harry breathed into Draco’s flushed face.

“I hate you more,” he whimpered, digging his fingers into Harry’s waist hard enough to leave bruises. “You’re stupid, and thoughtless, and holy Merlin your mouth.” He groaned, dragging said mouth back down to his.

“Well you’re arrogant and cruel and,” Harry’s back arched so far back he dimly worried if he would break a vertebrae or two during this unwanted fantasy. “Holy hell, your hands…”

They stopped talking, mouths too busy to vocalize more than the occasional gasp and muttered swear word. Draco flipped Harry onto his back and ground down… just… there… and with a shout they came and came; riding out the waves of pleasure coursing through their system.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

In three different bedrooms, on two different sides of the castle, four people were awake with four different reactions. 

Hermione smirked, face flushed, well satisfied as she read the passages appearing in her book while the scenes unfolded. She would definitely need to have a talk with Luna, should Ron need more persuasion… how was it that the girl had known she was being manipulated in a dream? Oh well, Hermione shook her head, giggling to herself. Draco and Harry had needed the barest nudge in the right direction before… resolving their tension. She giggled again, confident that the boys had never read that particular Muggle book. Her flushed deepened as she reread the last two chapters; holy hell she had been smart to mix that particular fantasy with Harry and Draco. 

“You ok, Hermione?”

She jumped, closing her book with a resounding snap before looking towards Lavender Brown’s bed. She made another mental note to cast a silencing spell before she did this again. Again. The thought made her smile more than a little wicked for a moment. “I’m great, Lavender. Just figured out how to successfully resolve… a puzzle, of sorts.” Hermione grinned at her roommate, eyes narrowing when the girl rolled her eyes before lying back down. She shook her head again. Really, it would be far too addicting to cast this spell on too many people. 

Draco shot up in bed with a gasp, looking around his room wildly. Had he really just… with Potter… He shifted, glancing in disgust at his sticky pajamas. Oh Merlin; apparently so. He got out bed, glaring at the offending article of clothing. No way was he going back to sleep without washing this mess off of him. Washing away the memory of Potter’s mouth, and tongue, and the way the green of the forest made his eyes… Fuck! He grabbed clean clothes and stomped towards the bathroom. This could not be happening. He was a Malfoy! And Potter was… was… was POTTER! He slammed the door to the bathroom behind him as his body stirred again at the memory. He was definitely going to brush his teeth after his cold shower. 

Harry arched his back, opening his eyes with one last gasp of pleasure. His stomach muscles were trembling, he realized in shock. And he… his… embarrassed, he grabbed his wand and muttered a hasty cleaning spell. That dream had been so real. He could still taste Draco in his mouth; still hear that low keening noise he made when… Harry whimpered, pressing the heel of his hands over his eyes. What the fuck was the matter with him? This is Malfoy he was talking about! He could not dream about Malfoy like this. Malfoy was… was… was MALFOY for God’s sakes!

“You alright mate?”

Harry jumped at the sound of Ron’s shaky voice. Dimly, he wondered why Ron sounded so shaken. Hot color flooded his face as he kept his hands pressed firmly over his face. How the hell could he look at his best friend after dreaming… THAT… about MALFOY! “Yeah,” his voice sounded rough. He cleared his throat and tried again. “Yeah, I’m all right. You?”

“Umm… yeah. Just… weird dream. You know?”

“Yeah. I know.”

“Right, well… night, Harry.”

“Yeah, night Ron.”

~*~*~*~*~~*~*~*~*~*~**~~

Hermione chattered happily at breakfast the next morning, completely unconcerned as her two best friends kept shooting glances across the room and blushing. She kept up her happy banter all the way to the dungeons, and only stopped when a familiar drawling voice interrupted her nonsensical babbling. 

“Well, if it isn’t the Golden Trio. All ready to be humiliated this morning, then?”

Hermione beamed at the boy, noticing the way gray eyes kept flickering to her left while a delicate pink color suffused normally pale cheeks. “Good morning, Draco!” she chirped, ignoring everyone’s open mouthed shock at her familiarity. “Isn’t it a beautiful morning? Can you believe how green the trees look since the rain finally stopped? Looking outside is like looking at a lush forest. Makes me want to almost roll around on the forest floor with… glee.” Harry went very still by her side, green eyes dropping as though mesmerized by the pattern on the floor.

She turned to Ron. “Now, now, Ron,” she said sternly. “Don’t tell me you didn’t study for today’s test, did you?” She tsked. “Honestly, do you need someone to crack the whip over you to get you to behave better?” 

Ron made a strangled noise in his throat, face flushing with heat until his skin was as dark as his hair. He practically ran through the door to his seat, dropping down with out a word; rubbing his writs as though they were chafed. Draco and Harry refused to look at each other, entering the classroom slowly and taking their respective seats without another word. The rest of the class entered cautiously, unnerved by the strange interaction in the corridor. Snape stood by the door, arms crossed over his chest, glaring at the room as he tried to figure out precisely how the dynamics of the class had changed. 

And Hermione… Well, Hermione entered the room beaming. She aimed a saucy wink at Snape, smirking as his eyes narrowed in suspicion, and fairly skipped to her seat. 

Today was going to be a great day.

~*~*~*~*~

So...thoughts? Should I continue?


	2. So Childish

DISCLAIMER: Not J.K. Rowling, in case you're confused.

LOL - OK, well, obviously that clicked for some of you! Thanks for the reviews, they made me grin!

Kisses!  
Roo

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

How long does mutual masturbation buy peace? Three days.

Hermione uttered a nearly inhuman screech of rage before bashing her book bag repeatedly against the desk in the classroom. Three days of blushing and awkward pauses in conversations. Three days of knuckling down and actually studying and doing homework and improving ones intellect and behaving like recognizable members of society. Three days of peace. PEACE; wonderful, respectful, addictive, peace. And today had started off so well too. Then she had walked with Harry and Ron down to breakfast. And Harry and Draco got into a fistfight over who had the right to enter the Dining Hall first. Like it really mattered! 

Harry and Draco’s exhibition had lost twenty points for each house and landed the both of them in detention tonight. Hermione growled again, slamming her bag once more against the desk for emphasis before remove her parchment, quill, and slightly dented ink set. Now, Ron was busily bashing every teacher who’d ever shown the slightest hint of favoritism towards someone other than himself, and bemoaning the fact that they had to sit through Potions with the Slytherins. It was “ferret this” and “ferret that,” and Harry was too busy sulking and pouting and whining like a child who’d lost their favorite toy. She knew, just KNEW, that neither one of them would be paying attention in class today; which meant that tonight it would be “Oh Hermione, you’re wonderful… be a pal… we really need you… come on, you take the best notes…” until she was ready to scream with vexation. Hermione flopped inelegantly into her seat, huffing out a breath as she glared at her table. Funny how it was ok to be smart when it was beneficial for THEM; the ungrateful thoughtless uncouth bastards. 

“Problems with the lemmings?”

“Ooh they’re so immature!” Hermione squeezed her eyes shut, raising both hands to her hair and pulling slightly. “Ron needs to grow a pair of balls and stop being so damn childish all the time, and Harry… holy hanna! He needs to recognize his needs for a more creative outlet for his passions! And Draco… such a spoiled, arrogant…ooh! I’m sick of them all!”

“Calm yourself,” the silky drawl continued. “You are not responsible for their childish behavior.”

“I practically am!” Hermione sighed, dropping her hands wearily to her desk. “We’ve been friends since we were eleven, why can’t…” she trailed off, eyes glazing slightly. Frizzy hair was shoved impatiently away from her face as the words processed. “Childish,” she whispered. “That’s it!” Hermione laughed, bouncing out of her seat and throwing herself into the arms of her inadvertent helper. “Thank you!” She kissed him dead on the mouth, pulling back with a sparkly eyed smile… and looking into the shocked face of Potions Master Severus Snape. 

She had just kissed her teacher. 

Ohgodohgodohgod. She had… no… did she really…but his lips were soft… ohgodohgodohgod DON’T think that! Offering an “eep” Hermione dropped bonelessly into her seat, eyes wide and face brick red. Snape’s eyes flickered briefly to the door, where the sounds of the rest of the class could be heard gathering, before he turned and walked smoothly and wordlessly back to his desk. For once, Hermione blessed the fact that no others were particularly eager to come early to class. What if someone had seen her... Snape could get in trouble if people thought… not that, you know, it would ever happen again… 

For the rest of the class, Hermione worked silently; flushed face bowed over her cauldron; getting progressively angry over the whispered complaints of her friends. 

Tonight she would treat them like the children they were.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~~**~~~*~

Ron looked around, utterly discomfited by the large beast in front of him. He tilted his head to the side, taking a cautious step backwards, studying the… thing. It looked like a Hippogriff, Unicorn, and Blast-Ended Skrewt that had been genetically altered and mashed hap hazardously together. Possibly birthed by an elephant. Had Hagrid been experimenting with mix-breeding animals again? His eyes widened over that thought, and his head turned quickly, eying his surrounding with growing trepidation as he took another step backwards. He let out a high pitched yelp when something connected sharply against his elbow. He turned quickly, slightly afraid he was about to be eaten… or fried… maybe turned into a vessel in which to breed one of these creatures… and looked into the placidly smiling face of Luna Lovegood. 

“What is that thing?”

The blonde frowned at him disapprovingly before turning to smile at the… creature. “He’s not a thing.”

“Whatever.”

“No,” she said thoughtfully, “he’s not a whatever, either.”

“Huh?” He caught himself. “Nevermind. What is that animal over there?”

“Herbert.”

“Herbert?”

“I already said that.”

“Yeah. Um, Luna? What is Herbert?”

Luna beamed. “He’s a Crumple Horned Snorlack. Isn’t he clever?”

Ron blinked, looking between the… Herbert… and Luna. “How do you know what a Crumbly thing looks like?”

“Because she’s terribly smart.”

“I thought you said Herbert was a he?”

“He is.”

“But you said that ‘she’ was terribly smart.”

The girl blinked at him slowly, smiling softly. “Yes. Because she is.”

“But… ok”

“Yes, it is ok.”

“Yeah. Um, Luna? What are we doing?”

Something flashed through her large blue eyes that made Ron shiver again. “Tonight, Ron, we are focusing on paying attention. We are going to work on separating what is a problem for you, versus what is a problem for others.”

Ron shifted nervously. “Am I going to have a problem tonight?” he asked timidly.

Luna smirked. Ron shivered again. Luna’s smirk grew slightly more pronounced. 

“That all depends on your views of negative reinforcement.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Harry slammed as quietly as possible into his dorm room. Neville was sleeping on his back, hugging some plant looking thing soothingly, Seamus was lying half off his bed, Dean had his curtains closed, and Ron was making some odd whimpering noises. Harry scowled; deciding not to care over Seamus’ uncomfortable looking position, Neville’s unhealthy obsession, and Ron’s half fractured mumblings about flying, crumbles, and loons. He had just gotten back from detention with Malfoy. Harry seethed, angrily flinging his clothes off as he got ready for bed. Why did he have to be so, so, blonde, and pointy, and, well, MALFOY! 

He climbed into bed, jerking his curtains closed and muttering a silencing spell. He sucked at clearing his mind during the best of times; no way could he maintain focus when he was this riled up over Malfoy’s mouth. Harry groaned quietly, shutting his eyes determinedly, thoughts of Malfoy’s mouth bringing back memories of his dream last week. Seriously: What the hell was wrong with him???

“You again.”

Harry looked over, only mildly surprised to see Draco sulking in the desk next to him. He smiled; stopping almost immediately. “Where are we?”

“Again, with the stupid and nonsensical questions.” Harry flushed, scowling. Draco sneered, gesturing around. “Clearly, we are in a classroom, Potter.”

Harry looked around, taking in the separate desks for each student, the odd looking teacher standing by the blackboard, the students diligently working on their assignments, the cow in the corner of the room. Wait… “There’s a cow in the classroom.”

“What do you expect from Mudbloods?”

The teacher looked up, unimpressed. “You, in the back. Names?”

Draco sneered at the teacher, turning his scowling face towards the window. Harry sighed. “I’m Harry Potter, ma’am, and this is my frie... well, this is Draco Malfoy.”

The teacher nodded, turning to pick up a piece of chalk. She wrote both of their names on the chalkboard under the word DISCIPLINE, before turning back to her class. Harry blinked. “Excuse me, ma’am?”

“No.”

“No?” Harry looked at Draco in confusion. The blond ignored him completely. He turned back to the irate teacher, faintly bewildered. “No what, ma’am?”

The teacher glared, turning to the chalk board and placing a check mark next to Harry’s name. “I’ve had quite enough of your impertinence, Harry. My name is not ma’am, it is Miss Zarves. You will address me as such at all times.”

Harry blinked again. “I apologize, Miss Zarves. Er… where are we?”

Miss Zarves sent a beseeching look toward the heavens. “I am the teacher on the Nineteenth Floor of Wayside School.” Harry frowned, completely confused. “Shut up and do your reading,” the teacher said; flopping behind her desk to grade a stack of papers.

Draco snickered, moving his desk closer to Harry’s with a loud squeak of metal on linoleum. Miss Zarves got up and added a check mark next to his name as well. “I’ve figured it out, Potter. We’re in Hell. The Dark Lord is trying to entice me to his side by showing me the alternative. You or him.”

Green eyes flashed angrily. “Yes,” he hissed under his breath, mindful of the students around him, “me or an evil madman.”

“The Cruciatus is looking more enticing by the day.”

Suddenly possessed by the desire to make Draco lose his cool, Harry reached out and placed his hand over the other boys groin. Draco went very still. Experimentally, Harry squeezed his hand; feeling rewarded by the faint trembling of Draco’s mouth and the hiss of breath that passed through his lips. Malfoy really did have a remarkable mouth, he though slightly dazedly, continuing his… massage, under the table.

“No, Draco,” Miss Zarves said impatiently from the front of the room. “I’m afraid ‘hiss’ is not the correct answer.” She turned to Harry. “You try, Harry; it’s a simple equation. What is EGG plus EGG?”

A fleeting concern over the health of his retinas passed through Harry’s mind as he blinked stupidly at the board. Egg plus egg? “Er,” he cleared his throat. Draco casually reached over and returned the favor; his wickedly clever fingers making Harry’s eyes cross slightly. “Gah.”

Miss Zarves sighed, adding a second check mark to both boys’ names. “No, Harry, ‘gah’ is also not the correct answer. Do try to pay attention. Egg plus egg equals fool.” Both boys nodded quickly, breathing heavily. 

Harry turned his head, looking straight into piercing gray eyes. His hand… ohgodohgod, they were in class! But it didn’t matter. Nothing mattered except his hand, and Draco’s hand, and Draco’s mouth trembling as his breathing… Harry gave up, lunging to his side and pressing their mouths together. He nearly sighed in relief at the texture, and the flavor, but oh… there was still his hand, and Draco’s hand, and… 

“No! Harry, Draco!” They pulled apart, flushed and breathing erratically, to see Miss Zarves frowning at them in disapproval. “I’m sorry boys, but the correct answer is ‘tree,’ not kissing. Now, I have tried to be patient, but you have both proven yourself to be incorrigible and I really do insist you go home at recess on the kindergarten bus.” The what? Miss Zarves frowned, making a shooing motion towards the door. “Go on. You may wait on the playground with Louis.”

They nodded obediently. Harry tripped over his feet; half admiring half resenting Draco’s smooth walk towards the door. Harry scowled. The prat was obviously unaffected by… class. He sighed in bliss when his back was slammed against the corridor and Malfoy’s mouth once again attacked him. “We’re in the stairway,” he gasped out, sliding his hands under Draco’s robe and against his smooth smooth skin.

“How frightfully observant you are Potter.” Draco sounded slightly breathless as he reached under Harry’s robes and…oh his hands. 

Harry vowed never to make fun of Malfoy’s hands in Potions class again. Ever. He flipped the blond around, staggering uncoordinatedly down four or five steps before he managed to secure Draco against the wall. “We’re supposed to go find Louis.”

“Shut the fuck up, Potter.” Draco flipped them again, managing to trip over the hem of Harry’s robes and sending rolling them both, still grappling and clinging, down the steps. Harry hissed as his back came into contact with the cold stone steps below him; finally remembering to stick his foot out and stop their bumbling progression down the steps. Hmm… he wondered, vaguely, as he licked and nibbled Draco’s neck, precisely what the pretty Slytherin used to wash with. “We have nineteen floors until we find this Louis,” Draco gasped out. 

Harry thought of protesting, of pointing out they were in the hallway of a school, but then Draco make that low keening noise of pleasure that Harry liked so much and Harry decided to stop talking. 

They stumbled out to the play ground about forty minutes later; bruised, dirty, disheveled, and grinning. Draco looked around, clearly unimpressed by their surroundings. “What now Potter?”

“Can’t you call me Harry? Anyone who puts their tongue…”

“Fine, while trapped in this three dimensional prison, Harry it is. What now, Harry?”

“Um,” Harry looked around, noting the frumpy looking man guarding a bin of balls. He snickered slightly at the though before gesturing in that direction. “Want to play kickball?”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~~*~*~*~

The next morning, Harry blushed while walking down the stairs to the Dining Hall, Ron was suspiciously quiet and seemed surprised that walking in general was not painful, and Hermione was pouting. Harry looked at the Slytherin table and flushed again, sitting down silently and preparing his tea and toast with pink cheeks and slightly trembling hands. Ron sat down, winced and half stood, looked utterly surprised, and then sat down again. He cast a surreptitious glance over to the Ravenclaw table before hastily looking away. 

“What are you looking at, mate?”

“Dra… Malfoy,” Harry answered without thinking; his rosy glow on his cheeks intensifying.

Ron’s face darkened, mouth opening to utter a childish retort. “I wonder if we’re going to study unicorns at all this year,” Hermione asked casually. Harry looked at her, grateful for the distraction. “There are so many different species that share similar characteristics with the unicorn, you know. Fascinating really.” 

Ron flushed. “Yeah, unicorns,” he agreed vaguely, tucking into his breakfast with almost desperate relief.

Harry blinked, looking rather confused. “Right, Hermione. We could research that independently if Hagrid doesn’t decide to show us something normal this year.” For some reason this caused Ron to blush hotter and shift slightly in his seat. Harry looked at his friend, about to ask, when his eyes locked on a figure across the room. “Research is good,” he remarked slightly breathlessly, raspberry jam dripping unnoticed off his toast and into his lap. For some reason, this caused Hermione to sigh rather despondently.

Ron looked up. “You all right, Hermione?”

She beamed at her friend. “Oh Ron, thank you for paying attention!” Ron flushed again. “I am just fine,” she said, patting his hand reassuringly, “but I do have a question for Harry.” She kicked him to get his attention.

“What?”

“What did Professor Snape tell you about Occlumency?”

Harry scowled immediately. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

“I know, honey, and I wouldn’t ask if it weren’t important.”

Green eyes flickered briefly to the Slytherin table again before Harry sighed and turned his attention back to his friends. “Er… it’s the magical defense of the mind against outside…um, interference. It, uh, seals your mind against magical intrusion and influence.”

Hermione tapped her fork thoughtfully against her lip. “I wonder if that’s why…” she trailed off, staring down at her plate.

Harry and Ron exchanged equally baffled looks. “Why what, Hermione?”

“Nothing,” she said brightly, eating fast. “I’m off to the library,” she announced, picking up her bag and hurrying out of the room. 

“She’s losing it,” Ron said regretfully, turning his attention back to his breakfast. Harry just nodded, mind already wandering to when he would see Draco in Transfiguration. They sat in class. At desks. Harry turned brick red and studied his breakfast intently; so lost in his thoughts he didn’t even notice Ginny and Neville’s shocked glances when Ron managed to carry on a civil conversation.

Hermione skipped lunch to study and walked into dinner warily, fully expecting a derogatory comment for her absence. To her pleasure, both boys offered sincere greetings before returning their attention to their meals. No fights all day, conscientious attention during class, a promise of an outside research group with Harry, and Draco had even offered her a cautious nod along with his habitual sneer when she smiled at him in the hallway. That, coupled with her research… Hermione beamed while dishing up chocolate pudding. She just LOVED it when her ideas turned out so successfully!

“How was your studying, Hermione?”

Hermione looked over at the head table, meeting glittering black eyes unflinchingly. She licked her spoon.

“Productive.”

~*~*~*~*~**~

So...ummm...yeah. Any thoughts or book suggestions?


	3. Challenging

DISCLAIMER: Nah, Rowling has different methods for torturing poor Harry.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~**~

He was fucking with her head. That’s all there was to it.

Hermione fumed, pacing back in forth in front of the fireplace in the Gryffindor common room. Severus Snape needed to burn. Needed to cry. Needed to kneel before her and apologize for interfering with her brilliant ploy. Things had been going so well too! After the last dream – Hermione blushed in remembrance - Harry and Draco had been different around each other. Glances lingered, hands brushed accidentally while passing each other in the halls or entering class, even their fighting had lost some of the malice. Then Snape decided to intervene. Hermione hissed, remembering Monday’s Potions class all too well…

She had known the second the words left his mouth that her beautiful plan was in jeopardy. She sighed. And after the last dream she had had four days of beautiful concentration, study, and peace. “Today’s potion requires you to work in partners,” the bastard had drawled smoothly. “I will assign the partners.” Black eyes met furious brown, “Granger and Zabini, Weasley and Bulstrode, Finnegan and Goyle, Thomas and Crabbe, Longbottom and Parkinson, Malfoy and Potter. Instructions are on the board. Begin.”

How freaking cliché could he be! Hermione fumed as she set up her cauldron, temporarily miffed when Zabini ignored her as completely as she ignored him, and felt her heart sink as she shamelessly eavesdropped on the conversation taking place to her right. “So… uh, Malfoy. This weekend is a Hogsmead weekend.”

“Your grasp for processing written information astounds me. Pass the Armadillo Bile.”

“Huh? Right. So… are you going? To Hogsmead, that is?” Hermione closed her eyes. Oh Harry, she wailed inside her head. You silly, sweet, bumbling, easily flustered fool!

“No Potter. I willingly relinquish my freedom to the powers that be.”

“Really?”

“No.”

“Oh.” A deep breath. “My friends and I usually meet up in the Three Broomsticks around two for a drink.”

“How quaint.”

“Sure. Um, would you like to maybe join us for a drink? At two. At the three Broomsticks?”

“Hmmm… sweaty palms, blustering phrases, a decided lack of cohesion in speech… Potter, are you asking me out?”

“No! I mean… um, why? Do you want to go out with me?”

“Pass the Red Clover. No, I do not want to sit down and have a drink with the Weasel and Mudblood.”

“Don’t call her that!”

“Fine. The Weasel and the Insufferable-Little-Know-It-All.”

Hermione snarled under her breath at the term, clenching her hand so tightly around the beaker containing Horsemint that it shattered in her hand. She stared stupidly at the blood welling in her palm, hardly registering as Blaise Zabini swore and pressed a handkerchief to her palm. She almost didn’t hear Harry and Ron. Almost. “Now look what you did!”

“Really Weasel? From all the way over here? My omnipotence is truly astounding, is it not?”

“Shut up, Malfoy! You know what he meant!”

“Really Potter? That’s odd. I often doubt that the Weasel even understands what he says half the time.”

Hermione whimpered as Blaise removed a shard of glass from her palm with surprisingly gentle fingers. “Don’t listen to them,” Blaise whispered under his breath. Startled, she looked up, entranced by the inky eyes staring into her own. Hermione felt like she was drowning. She could feel the blood rushing up her neck, swirling frantically in her stomach… only to shatter as Harry launched himself at Draco with a roar. The two were on the floor, wrestling and shouting and swearing; Ron bellowing encouragements and suggestions, swinging his fist at an imaginary opponent. Still riding the unexpected rush of endorphins, Hermione dimly wondered if she was the only one who noticed the boys freeze; Draco straddling Harry’s waist as he leaned down, closer and closer… only to be knocked off Harry by a well placed spell. 

Snape was furious over the display. Removing twenty points from Gryffindor from Harry and Ron both, five points from Slytherin due to Malfoy’s behavior, no matter how well provoked the blond may have been, and a solid week’s worth of detention. Snape paused by Hermione on his trek back to the front of the room. “Four days of affability. Your longest record, I’d wager.” Hermione seethed silently, belatedly remembering to remove her hand from Blaise’s. He’d pay for that!

Now here it was Wednesday. TWO SOLID DAYS after the incident. And were her boys back on track? NO! They weren’t even pretending to pay attention in class. Harry was far too busy moping over Draco’s reactions, Ron, proving Luna’s lessons were starting to pay off, HAD noticed the temporary freezing of limbs, and was muttering disparaging comments about The Ferret under his breath at every turn; trying, fruitlessly, to dissuade Harry’s burgeoning crush on Malfoy. Hermione crossed her arms over her chest, glaring sightlessly out the window. Snape needed to pay! Somehow he had figured out she was influencing her boy’s behavior, and was… challenging her. She contemplated the moon as she thought over this newest problem. 

The moon.

She smirked; cold enough to rival Luna’s and abruptly raced to her room. She ignored her roommates; ensconcing herself in bed and muttering a silencing and privacy spell before eagerly reaching for her book. Oh, she couldn’t punish him right away. That would be far too obvious. But she could certainly set the scene.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Ron looked around him in undisguised dismay.

He was sitting in a bathtub. That, in itself, wasn’t that unusual. I mean, even boys…err… men… took relaxing bubble baths occasionally. No, what was odd was the fact that there was no water in the bath. He was sitting in an empty bathtub. Even stranger, he was filthy. Not muddy, like after a game of Quidditch, but filthy. There was a thick layer of dirt covering his skin with… were those radishes?... some kind of produce poking out of the dirt. “I’m growing radishes on my skin?” he marveled out loud.

“Yes, you are.”

The voice was dreamy, but he still jumped. His head whipped around in surprise. And he blinked. Owlishly. “Luna?”

The girl in question was sitting on the toilet. This, much like Ron sitting in the tub, was not an unusual occurrence. No, what was odd was Luna was sitting on the toilet… fully clothed… in frumpy clothes. Her hair was even messier than normal, and squashed on top by a frilly floral bonnet. “Oh please,” she instructed airily, “call me Mrs. Piggle Wiggle.”

“Err… what?”

“No, who.”

“Oh, right. Who’s Mrs. Piggle Wiggle?”

Blue eyes blinked lazily at Ron. “I am, silly.”

“O K. Uh, Lu… Mrs. Piggle Wiggle? Why am I sitting in the bathtub growing radishes?” Ron was learning it was best to be as specific as possible when addressing Luna. 

“Because you’re rebelling.”

“I am?”

“You are.”

“What am I rebelling against?”

The blonde sighed. “You’re refusing to proceed past your childish urges to provoke unnecessary anger.”

Ron glanced around. “And growing radishes on my skin will help me learn to be calm.”

“No,” Luna tilted her head thoughtfully. “They will teach you to listen, and not sweat the small stuff.” She gave Ron a stern look. “You need to grow up, Ron.”

“Oh. Um, I’m sorry?”

“Yes, you will be.”

Ron screwed up his eyes and whimpered. 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Severus Snape groaned, reaching up a hand to massage his temple. Every part of his body hurt; much like he’d been writing under the Cruciatus Curse for an extended amount of time. With senses well honed from spying for longer than a decade, he swiftly took in his surrounding. He was… in a hole… carved into the earth? Severus craned his neck, looking towards the top of his makeshift prison. Was someone…singing? “Miss Granger?” he asked warily. 

He heard a giggle from above him. “It puts the lotion on its skin.”

He blinked. That was definitely not Miss Granger’s voice. Against his will, he shivered. “I beg your pardon?”

The giggle grew closer as a bucket was carefully lowered into the hole. Snape warily inched closer to the intrusion and peeked inside. Nothing rested inside the wooden bucket but a bottle of lotion. “Is this a joke?” he demanded.

Singing reached his ears yet again. “It puts the lotion on its skin,” the voice warbled, “or else it gets the hose again!”

“Excuse me?”

Giggles erupted almost immediately, along with the sound of something being dragged along the ground. In the distance, a wolf howled.

Snape shivered again.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~~

Harry opened his eyes. And blinked. 

Looking down, he saw he was once again ensconced all in black. O K… so maybe Draco had a fetish. Who was he to judge? No, what brought him up short was the fact that Draco was sitting across the… table… from him, hands bound with twine, eyes covered with cloth, and the most put upon expression on his face that Harry had ever seen. “Er…” he noted with a little lilt in his heart that Draco looked up at the sound of his voice.

“Potter? Oh thank God. The half blood is crazy. Do your,” he gestured vaguely with his bound hands, “Gryffindor thing, and save me.”

“Impudent child! I told you I am not a half blood! And you, you silly bint, should know the person across from you, the person who challenged me to a battle of wits, is not a potter. He is,” the short man paused for dramatic effect, “the Dread Pirate Roberts.”

Harry blinked again. “I am?”

The short man in from of him sneered unpleasantly. “You are!” he exclaimed. “And you are obviously not very smart!” Draco snorted. Harry glared before remembering the blond couldn’t see him. “The very thought that you could win a battle of intellect against a Florintinian is INCONCEIVEABLE!”

Draco sighed. “Yes, Well, Potter is not one to think plans through before jumping in head first.” He reached up, using his bound hands to rip the blindfold off his face. Draco stared at the filthy man sitting next to him. “Oh no. No no no no no. Potter, you will beat this man and take me away immediately.”

Harry grinned. “If I win are you my prize?”

The blond heaved a very dramatic sigh. “I suppose.”

“Inconceivable!”

“Oh shut up, you stupid wanker!” Irritated, Draco reached down, picked up the goblet of wine sitting in front of the man, and tossed it in his face. The man spluttered, shaking his fist threateningly; only to freeze and topple over unconscious.

Draco stared at the prone form on the ground and then back at the goblet still clutched in his fist. Harry stood up, eyeing the figure warily. “We should go.”

Gray eyes blinked. “Right.” Smoothly he rose to his feet, holding out his hands expectantly. Harry attempted to leer suggestively, but obediently worked on the knots in the rope. Draco shook his head at the figure on the ground. “Stupid half blood. He should have known better than to drink wine of dubious quality.”

The sound of hoof beats approaching in the distance drew Harry’s attention. “Um, Malfoy?” he tugged the blonds’ hand, pulling him gracelessly away from the table. “We need to go now.”

Draco looked over, unimpressed, at the image of a highly confused looking Dark Lord and Death Eaters approaching the duo on horses. “But I want to stay and say hello to Father.”

Harry kissed his pouty lips. “Yes, Draco,” he said coaxingly. “But you’re my prize, remember?” He kissed him again. For… um… luck. “We should go.”

Malfoy sighed. “You should go to Hell,” he grumbled; following along behind Harry.

Green eyes rose to the heavens in exasperation. Harry tripped over a root sticking out of the ground and tripped, falling headfirst down a cliff. He was going to die. He just knew it. Maybe Malfoy had cursed him. “As you wish!” he bellowed.

“Well shit.” Draco stood there, watching Potter roll down the hill. He turned, idly noting the horse riding Dark Lord and Death Eaters approaching, looking no less confused. He deliberated. Potter… or the Dark Lord. “Fucking Potter,” he grumbled. Cautiously, he began inching his way down the cliff. Three steps down his foot slipped in mud and he went rolling down the hill. “What have I done?” he asked in anguish. He groaned, lying unmoving on the bottom of the hill.

“Malfoy? Draco? You ok?”

“I hate you Potter.”

Harry kissed those pouty lips again. “Yes, I know,” he said soothingly. “And it’s Harry, remember?”

“Fine,” he said sulkily. “I hate you, Harry.” To prove this, he reached up and pulled Harry’s hair sharply, smiling over the resulting hiss of pain, before crushing their mouths together. He dimly wondered when the sound of someone whimpering came to sound so arousing. 

Cloudy green eyes blinked down after several long seconds. “You chose me over the Dark Lord.” He grinned, pulling Draco to his feet, kissing him one more time to absorb that deliciously familiar taste. “Come on, we can lose them in the forest!”

“What is it with you and forests? A natural affinity with beasts and rodents?”

“Uh, sure, whatever. Hey Draco? Do you see that? Or did I hit my head harder than I thought?”

Draco turned and looked disdainfully at the rodent of unusual size growling at them from the bushes. He gave the patented Malfoy glare. “Don’t even think about it.” The rodent squealed, tucked its tail between its legs, and ran off into the forest. Satisfied, he turned back to see Harry gazing at him in dazed wonder. 

“You saved me.”

“Us. I saved us. Self preservation is useful for ensuring survival.”

“Whatever.” Grateful, Harry reached out, pining Draco to a tree. 

Draco was sure he had a scathing retort to offer. And he would. As soon as Harry’s mouth stopped…. Oh holy hell where had he learned that? Who would have ever thought that someone as asinine and bumbling as Potter could have a mouth that brilliant? And who knew that his collar bone was that sensitive, and Harry’s wonderful mouth… oh crap, when did they land in the dirt? Weren’t they standing just a second ago? Not to be outdone, he reached out and grabbed Harry, ready to berate him for getting his clothes even dirtier than the fall down the hill. “Your eyes look brilliant surrounded by all this green.” Wait… that came out wrong.

Harry whimpered again, wishing fervently his hands were half as skilled as Draco’s as they rolled and fought with the confining clothes. “You’re delicious,” he gasped out, gripping Draco around the back of his thighs and pulling him closer. Ohgodohgodohgod, they were made to do this. They just seemed to fit together so perfectly. For the first time in his life Harry was glad Voldemort had somehow managed to find him. “Thanks for coming into the forest with me,” he mumbled around a mouthful of flesh as he sucked and nibbled his way down Draco’s chest.

“Well,” he arched, gasping, yanking that clever mouth back to his even as his hips thrust sloppily and enthusiastically against Harry’s. He sucked in a breath. “You did ask so nicely, after all.” He groaned, low in his throat, as Harry’s mouth resumed the path down his body. “We really should try this off the ground at least once.”

Harry laughed, green eyes darkening when Draco gave an involuntarily shiver. Harry bit his hip bone. “I tried asking you out earlier. You refused me.” He dipped his tongue into Draco’s navel, sucking and licking in a way that made Draco’s eyes cross.

“No I didn’t,” he gasped out; thrusting helplessly against Harry; one hand would firmly into unruly black hair. And then Harry’s mouth… and his hands… and oh heavens who would have ever thought that sand could feel like that against hot sensitive flesh. Draco gave a desperate keen of pleasure, Harry…ohfuckohfuck… Harry purred, and Draco shouted and forgot how to think.

Later, sticky, sweaty, and rumpled, they cautiously made their way through the forest. Draco laughed outright when Harry walked straight into a pit of flames. “Still not paying attention, Harry?”

“What did you mean earlier?”

“Define earlier.”

“I was there.” Harry paused, looking up. “I distinctly heard you refuse me and insult my friends.”

Draco groaned, leaning over to kiss a line from Harry’s swollen mouth, along his jaw, and to his ear. “No,” he corrected, biting Harry’s earlobe. “I refused a drink with your idiotic friends. I did not, however, refuse you.” Harry blinked at him, dazed, processing his comment. Draco smirked, turning away, and disappeared from sight.

Harry yelped, startled, looking around frantically. Draco had just… oh shit! Quicksand. Frantically, Harry looked around. Finding at last a long and flexible vine. “I’ll save you, Draco!” And without further thought, he jumped headfirst into the quicksand.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~**~~*~*

Breakfast started out so well.

“Mate?” Ron looked at Harry earnestly. “I’m sorry for egging you on yesterday. It’s been... Well, I’ve been thinking. Maybe Malfoy isn’t so bad. We should try not to respond to his childish taunts.” Harry blinked at Ron absently. “Harry?”

“Hmm?” Harry blinked, snapping out of his thoughts. “What? Malfoy, right. Yeah, good idea.”

He chewed on his toast thoughtfully. Hermione watched a drop of raspberry jam splatter in his lap and smirked. She took a delicate, slightly smug, sip of her pumpkin juice. “Hey Hermione?”

“Yes Harry?”

“Well, you’re smarter than me. Um, smarter than a lot of people here.”

“Why thank you, Harry. You could be smarter, too, if you would only apply yourself more.”

“Right.” Harry scratched the back of his head awkwardly. “Um, have you ever studied dreams?” Ron twitched slightly in his seat.

Hermione smiled encouragingly. “A little bit, Harry. Why?”

“Well… what does it mean if you’re willing to jump into quicksand in order to save someone?”

Hermione smirked, but was saved from answering as Hedwig chose that precise moment to soar gracefully into the Dining Hall. Harry cuddled the owl, feeding her a sliver of bacon as he removed and began reading his note. He let out a loud groan, slipping forward and allowing his head to bang against the table top. Hermione sniffed disapprovingly. “Really Harry,” she huffed. “What could possibly warrant such a reaction?”

“Yeah, Harry,” Ron straightened his shoulders proudly. “It’s time to grow up and stop indulging in such childish urges.” Hermione beamed at him.

“This,” Harry said shortly, lifting his head and tossing the parchment onto his plate. He glared at the letter. “Snape’s resuming his Occlumency lessons. Dumbledore’s orders. Starting tonight.”

Harry looked at his friends dejectedly. Ron’s shoulders slumped. Hermione crashed her goblet onto the table; seething.

Oh yes, Hermione thought viciously. The man would pay!

~*~*~*~*~


	4. Reality Bites

Warnings and Disclaimers and all that jazz. I own nothing. Not even the books I am writing them into...

~*~*~*~*~

Lavender Brown was sprawled across her bed with Parvati Patil, giggling over the latest pictures of the lead singer for The Weird Sisters on holiday at the coast. Both girls looked up, startled, when Hermione flung open the door and stomped into the room muttering to herself about interfering busybodies and nosy, non complacent, sadistic bastards. They watched in silence as she went straight to her trunk, removed three layers of protective enchantments, rummaged through her belongings, and removed a simple black notebook. Still silent, they watched Hermione slam the lid of her trunk shut, replace the enchantments, duplicate the book, and shove both books into her book bag before hoisting her bag onto her shoulder and storming back out. Still muttering increasingly obscene ramblings under her breath. 

Parvati turned to Lavender. “What the hell was that?”

Lavender shook her head sadly. “That girl really needs a hobby.”

“Or a boyfriend,” Parvati piped up.

“She definitely needs to relieve some tension.” Both girls giggled, magazine temporarily forgotten as they worried over Hermione’s lack of a love life.

Parvati sighed, shaking her head. “Hermione’s a nice girl, very smart, but she needs to relax. Needs to stop being so damn controlling. There’s no way she will be able to enter a relationship thinking she will get her way all the time.”

The blonde giggled. “Plus,” she agreed, “it’s a well proven fact that guys do not like girls who are smarter than them.” Parvati stared at her friend for a minute, rolling her eyes, but deciding not to comment on Lavender’s empty love life. Part of being a good friend was knowing when to stay quiet, after all. Instead she smiled, giggled, and directed Lavender’s attention back to the magazine.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Hermione scowled, storming down the hallway towards the Ravenclaw dormitories. She could not believe this! How dare Snape issue her a detention for stirring her potion too slowly! Well, maybe she’d be able to see Harry after his lessons and offer him some comfort. Harry hated Occlumency. Or rather, Occlumency hated him. She’d researched it, after all. She could rattle off the most frequent side effects without thinking. Reaching her destination, she politely, if impatiently, reached out and tapped the eagle head affixed to the door. 

The eagle harrumphed irritably when the door swung open and a blonde head poked out, smiling absently at a point three inches to the right of where Hermione stood. The Gryffindor sighed, fidgeting slightly, before determinedly reaching into her bag and withdrawing one copy of the black notebook. “You’ll only write in your section, right?”

“Umm…” Luna agreed vacantly. “Did you know I am considered something of a literary genius?”

Hermione blinked, shaking her head bemusedly. “Sure, Luna. Whatever. I have to go.”

Luna nodded, slowly lowering her protuberant eyes to the book in front of her. “Wear knee pads,” she said by way of dismissal.

“Knee pads? Why would I…” Hermione trailed off with a frown as the door shut with a resounding click. 

Rolling her eyes, she quickened her pace to the dungeons. It really would not be a good idea to be late for her detention with that snarky sexy bastard. But what if he found her book? Alarmed at the prospect, silently cursing the fact she didn’t trust her roommates enough to leave her book alone, Hermione stopped in the middle of the hallway and determinedly removed her book, charming the cover to read, “Are You There God? It’s Me, Margaret.” She smirked with unholy pleasure at the thought of Snape holding this book in her hand. She entered the dungeons in time to see Draco Malfoy vanishing around a corner holding onto Harry as the brunette sagged weakly at his side. Curious, worried, she took one step to follow when her watched chimed lightly. She didn’t have time or she’d be late for detention! Irritated once again, she knocked politely on the door before opening it and slipping inside.

“Professor Snape?” Hermione shut the door quietly, looking around uncertainly at the dark interior of the potions classroom. Although she had attended class in this room every year since she had attended Hogwarts, there was something disturbing about being here after hours. Something inescapably dangerous that made her shiver. “Sir?”

“Legilimens!”

Hermione screamed, at least she thought she did. She couldn’t be sure with the sudden cacophony of noise and color that surrounded her world. She was in the Potions classroom, so thrilled to figure out her problem, flinging her arms around her professor and kissing him with far too much enthusiasm than the situation merited. She was lying in bed, blushing, as she reread the last two chapters in a small black book. She was crouched in the hallway, smirking, as she charmed the same little black book… Hermione gasped, hand flying to her spinning forehead, as the presence in her mind vanished. She moaned, unable to muster up a complaint as Professor Snape rummaged through her bad, discovered the book, ended the charm, and moved behind his desk to begin reading. In fact, it took her several minutes to lock her trembling arms enough to haul herself off the frigid dungeon floor. When had she fallen to the floor?

She swayed lightly, fighting the urge to vomit. She must have hit her neck on the edge of the desk before collapsing onto her knees. The side of her neck and her knee caps ached in glorious symphony as Hermione desperately struggled to collect herself. Occlumency was not supposed to be like this! She had read all about it! The books certainly did not comment on this sense of invasion. Had Professor Snape seen everything she had? Her head snapped up at the thought. She blinked, horrified, as her mind caught up to the fact that her teacher was sitting behind his desk, lips twitching, face slightly flushed, reading her book intently. “That’s private!” She meant to scream, wanted to scream, but her voice was hoarse. 

Snape ignored her. For the most part. “How very helpful of you to divide the stories with separate tabs for each… victim. My compliments.”

Hermione felt a rush of pride at the words, unconsciously straightening her shoulders. “Yes, I rather thought… wait! You shouldn’t be reading that!”

“Oh? And why not, Miss Granger? It is far less illegal for me to read this, than it is for you to curse the victims in this manner.”

“Illegal?” Hermione paled. “But it’s just… I only wanted to…” Her eyes welled with tears as her mind helpfully supplied images of Sirius’ gaunt face and haunted eyes after his time in Azkaban. She couldn’t go to Azkaban! She hadn’t taken her Newt’s yet!

Snape ignored her, standing up in his chair as he read a particular passage with a sense of rising excitement. “This passage here. The one from last night? Do Potter and Malfoy remember fleeing from the Dark Lord and his Death Eaters?”

Hermione blinked again. She suddenly understood how Harry felt being thrust into an alternate reality. “I don’t… we don’t… I think Harry might,” she finally ventured timidly. 

Snape’s eyes narrowed. “You think?”

A flush worked her way up her face. “Well, we don’t really discuss the dreams. Although… Ron sometimes seems confused when he doesn’t hurt in the morning, and Harry blushes a bit more than usual and wondered what it meant that he was willing to dive into quicksand for Draco and…” She trailed off uncertainly as Snape came sweeping around his desk, a look of excitement transforming his features, and swept her into his arms; kissing her soundly. 

Hermione followed complacently as he grabbed her by the arm and hauled her down the hallway. She had an odd, fluttery feeling in her stomach and a smile twitching on the corner of her mouth. “Where are we going?” she finally managed to ask breathlessly. 

“To the headmaster, of course.”

The fluttery feeling vanished as swiftly as it came, replaced by a much more frightening pool of fear. She followed Snape in stricken silence all the way to Dumbledore’s office. 

~*~*~*~*~*~~*~*~~*~

“Where are we now?”

Ron looked around, slightly dizzy, at the brightly colored landscape. He wondered with a sort of detached concern precisely when he stopped being alarmed by his dreams. He gazed in cautious silence at the large pink and white checkered animal with hot pink hair that was lounging on a large blue hill in front of him. He didn’t move. 

“I want to ask you something.”

He nodded, still not taking his eyes off the animal in front of him. “Hey Luna? What is the animal in front of us?”

“Hmm?” The blonde turned and regarded the animal briefly before turning back to the red head. “Oh, that’s a Zizzer-Zazzer-Zuzz, as you can plainly see.”

“Right?” Ron nodded again. He still didn’t move. “Is it going to eat us?”

Luna sighed, grabbing Ron by the elbow and jumping in place. Ron looked around, startled. The blue hill and the large animal were gone. Instead he was in a bright orange field watching turtles sleeping in a tree. “What the…”

“That’s ten tired turtles on a tuttle-tuttle tree,” Luna replied helpfully. “You seemed alarmed by the Zizzer-Zazzer-Zuzz, so I switched pages.”

“You switched… pages?”

“Yes.”

“Oh. Ok.”

“I want to ask you something.”

“What?”

“Why haven’t you asked me to Hogsmead yet?”

Ron looked away from the sleeping turtles to stare at the humming girl in shock. “But you... I mean… would you go with me?”

“You’ll never know unless you ask me.”

“I just did.”

“No, you asked the dream me. You need to ask the real me.” She grabbed his arm again, jumping in place one more time. 

They were in a dark blue field now, standing under a glowing full moon while several sleep walking mice wandered around humming. He turned to Luna, raising his eyebrows in silent inquiry. She smiled at him. “Many mumbling mice are making midnight music in the moonlight… mighty nice.” She smiled at Ron again, holding out her hand. “We should dance.”

Awkwardly, Ron pulled her close, swaying side to side as he tried to figure out what was going on. And why he really didn’t care. “So… I should ask you to Hogsmead?”

“Yes. Ask me at breakfast and I’ll say yes.”

Ron relaxed, pulling Luna just a bit closer. “Ok.”

“Hey Ron?”

“Yeah?”

“Have you ever seen four fluffy feathers on a Fiffer-feffer-feff?” Ron closed his eyes.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~ 

Harry staggered out of Snape’s classroom. He was sweaty, his head was on fire, and his body ached from the many times Snape had brought him to his knees as he tried to block the man out of his mind. He’d been doing all right, had even managed to block Snape out once after only a few seconds, but then the man had stumbled upon his dreams of Draco… and had ruthlessly examined them. Especially the one from last night when him and Draco had gone tumbling down the hill. Harry scowled, rubbing his scar forcefully. The man probably just liked seeing him embarrassed even in his sleep! Harry groaned, hurting and tired and not wanting to walk anymore. Gryffindor tower was so far away. He closed his eyes, allowing himself to slide to the floor, and rested his head on knees. He would get up in just a minute.

“Finally tired of slumming and decided to beg the Slytherins for admittance?”

Harry groaned, too weak, too tired, too embarrassed, to lift his head and argue with Draco. “Yes Dra... Malfoy. That’s it exactly,” he said wearily.

He heard a rustle of fabric and felt a brief flair of… sadness? Disappointment?... that Draco was leaving seconds before a cool hand rested gently on his forehead. “Too tired to fight with me? What the hell happened to you?”

“Snape’s a bastard,” he mumbled to his knees.

“Did he hurt you?” Draco’s voice sharpened, his fingers digging into Harry’s forehead as he forcibly lifted the dark head and gazed into glassy green eyes. “Did he curse you?”

“What to you care?” Harry answered irritably, pulling his chin out of Draco’s grasp. And suddenly it bothered him. He was so tired, and he felt… something… for the blond in front of him, but Draco felt nothing. “You don’t care,” he said sadly. He closed his eyes again, wanting nothing more than to sink into the concrete and disappear. Become one with Hogwarts. He giggled at such an asinine thought. “I would jump into quicksand for you,” he slurred out, half asleep on the floor, “and you don’t care at all.”

“Jump into quick…” Gray eyes widened, and then narrowed, as he studied the sleepy boy on the floor. “Come with me, Potter,” he said briskly, reaching down to haul Harry to his feet.

Harry staggered and would have fallen if Draco hadn’t caught him. “What? What are you doing? Where are we going?”

“You’re coming with me,” Draco said decisively, steering the half comatose boy down the hall and towards his dorm room. Thankful, not for the first time, that his father had donated enough to the school that he was afforded a private room for his last year of schooling. “I will stop you from doing something idiotic and Gryffindor until you can at least stand on your own.”

“Why?” Harry asked blearily, leaning just a little harder on Draco as they rounded the corner.

“Well, Wonder Boy, even you need to be moderately sentient if you wish to battle your big bad adversaries.”

“No,” Harry muttered, shaking his head as Draco laid him onto a bed… oh, and what a soft bed it was too… and started untying his shoes. He reached out, touching Draco’s pale hair as he struggled to stay awake. “Why are you helping me?”

Draco shrugged uncomfortably, flushing slightly as he shimmied Harry’s baggy pants down his legs and settled the sleepy boy under the comforter. He busied himself removing Harry’s robe and folding it over the chair close to his bed before removing Harry’s glasses and settling them on the nightstand with their wands. “Well,” he finally answered quietly. “Perhaps I do care that you would jump into quicksand for me.” He looked over, forcing himself to meet Harry’s eyes, and wasn’t sure whether to be relieved or annoyed that Harry was sound asleep. He studied the brunette, noticing how his lips parted as he breathed, and the way his arm twitched as though reaching for someone even in sleep. 

He shook his head, standing and changing into pajama bottoms before climbing into bed next to Harry. He scowled when Harry immediately snuggled close, sighing “Draco” under his breath. He watched Harry for a long time, wondering precisely what had prompted him to help the boy when he saw him in the dungeons. Not two weeks ago the sight of a battered and weakened Harry Potter would have brought up thoughts of a perfect test subject to perform curses on. It wasn’t until much later that night as he burrowed his face into Harry’s unruly hair, than an errant thought made him frown sleepily.

What were the odds of Harry having the exact same dreams as him?

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~~*

Hermione stumbled into her dorm room shortly after midnight. Ignoring her giggling roommates, she went straight to bed and collapsed in an exhausted heap with a moan of pleasure. Kicking off her shoes, she didn’t bother to change or wash her face or brush her teeth or anything. She just lay her aching head on her pillow and prayed for oblivion. Tomorrow was going to be a bitch of a day. 

Lavender stared at her straight laced roommate in open mouthed shock before turning to an equally stunned Parvati. “Did you see the size of the hickey on her neck?”

“And her clothes were rumpled and,” Parvati gasped, covering her moth with her hands, “her knees were bruised!”

The two girls stared at each other with wide eyes before turning back to study Hermione with a new level of respect. “But,” Lavender sputtered, all of her preconceived notions of what guys like crumbling to dust, “but she’s a bookworm! A freak of nature!”

“Well,” Parvati said doubtfully, “she is the one stumbling into the dorm after curfew looking like she just had sex!”

Lavender bit her lip. “Maybe we should start walking around with books all the time?”

~*~*~*~


	5. Luna's Turn

Going camping for the weekend, leaving in two hours actually, and wanted all my WIP’s caught up before I left. I think I will succeed! *is proud*

HDHDHD

Draco preened; twisting his body this way and that in front of the full length mirror to better admire his reflection. Granted, the pants were just a bit tight, and the hair… Draco shuddered slightly as he sadly held up a strand of teased and fluffed hair in his hand. But he could fix that. He looked down by his feet, sneering slightly at the ugly creature fawning all over him. “So, I really am the Goblin King?”

Luna bowed low before him. “Oh, yes, Jareth…”

“Draco.”

She giggled. “Yes, Your Majesty.”

“Hmm.” Draco studied his reflection again. “And what about him?” he asked casually; jerking his head in the direction of the other mirror in the room. The mirror that showed a blue jean wearing Harry Potter wandering around in a room full of stairs. Some regularly placed, others upside down, some seemingly floating in midair. 

“Oh Sarah’s waiting for you.”

“Sarah?”

“Well, Harry.”

“Uh huh. And why are you a Goblin?”

“Because I have always wanted to be a Goblin.” The blonde sighed happily. “And since all you want is Harry, once you meet up with him I will take baby Toby and keep him forever.”

“Toby?”

“Ron.”

“Right. So I am Jareth, Harry is this Sarah person; you are convinced you are a Goblin, and Ron is now a baby named Toby?”

“Yep.”

“Why the Hell would you want a baby Toby Ron?”

Luna blinked at Draco slowly, as though he were crazy to ask. “Because once the time runs out, he’ll be turned into a Goblin and I can keep him forever.”

Draco gave the girl an appraising look; slightly alarmed that that logic made an odd kind of sense to him. “You’re rather twisted. You know that right?”

“Yep. But I’m not as odd as Hermione or Voldemort.”

“Why, are they some random creature as well?”

“Well, Hermione is. She’s Hoggle, and along with Professor Snape, who is the valiant Ludo, they are guarding Voldemort in the Bog of Eternal Stench.”

“The who is the what?”

“Precisely. But it doesn’t really matter.” Luna gave the confused looking Draco a critical look. “Well, you’re no David Bowie, but you fit the description of the character from the book.”

“Erm… thanks?”

“You’re welcome. You do fill out those pants rather well.”

“Stop looking at me like that!”

“Sorry. Oh!” She paused on her way towards the red headed baby playing with a glass ball. “Tell Harry that the Labyrinth is supposed to teach him that life isn’t fair. I think he already knows, but if you tell him from the get go then you can skip all the misadventures and ‘you have no power over me’ nonsense and get together like all readers knew you were destined to.” She waved cheerfully as she scooped the baby up and ran out the door towards the Goblin City; cackling wildly. 

Draco watched her go. “Right,” he sighed. Still shaking his head he stepped through the other mirror and floated down the steps until he reached the section Harry was in.

“Draco! Thank God!” Harry ran straight to the blond and hugged him fiercely. “I woke up and I was surrounded by all these stairs, and I swear I heard Luna cackling, and, wow what are you wearing?”

“I know.” Draco preened again. “I look hot in these pants.” He sighed, looking around the room of stairs disdainfully. “I really need to find you some new friends, Potter.”

“Harry,” he corrected with a frown. “And why would I need new friends? I like my friends!”

“I know you do.” Draco sighed sadly. “But I have recently decided you are not responsible for dragging me into the depths of your twisted little fantasies.”

“Took you long enough,” Harry muttered.

Draco chose to ignore him. “In fact, I believe it is your friends who are torturing us to this degree.” He smoothed his hands down his sides and over his thighs; smirking as Harry’s eyes widened and tracked the movement. “Although, at least your vapid little blonde friend has a better fashion sense then your pet Granger.”

“Hmm?” Harry took a step closer, nuzzling into Draco’s neck. “What about my pet?”

“Harry,” Draco shivered, reaching out instinctively as Harry bit down hard on his neck and then licked the spot. “We really should discuss how best to get away from here.”

“Uh huh.” Harry nibbled his way up Draco’s neck, one hand sliding down to cup Draco’s arse. “I really like these pants on you,” he murmured, before nibbling on Draco’s lower lip.

Draco swore lightly, giving up on trying to talk as he reached out and grabbed a fistful of Harry’s hair, pressing their lips together. In the distance, he heard a clock start chiming, but chose to ignore it as he made a mental note to teach Harry precisely how one should use their tongue when kissing. He grinned against Harry’s mouth, glad when that annoying clock stopped going off, and ran his hands up Harry’s side – glad he had had the foresight to remove Harry’s pants before putting him to bed last night.

Wait… what?

He opened his eyes, jerking back from the kiss as he scrambled to sit up. The faintest of chimes could be heard in the distance; the last chimes of an enchanted clock fading into silence. Harry sat up in bed, his lips swollen and vividly red, looking at Draco’s stunned expression in confusion before green eyes opened wide in realization. They were no longer in a room filled with stairs. They were, instead, safely and snuggly secured in Draco’s bedroom. And somehow… somehow they had been kissing in his dream and woke up kissing in real life. 

Harry looked at Draco blankly, not quite sure what to say. “I,” he paused, clearing his throat, dropping his eyes to where silky pajama bottoms clung low on Draco’s hips. “I liked the other pants better.”

Draco froze, staring at Harry in shock before leaping off the bed like a scalded cat. “POTTER!” Harry shrank back against the pillows as Draco paced the room, occasionally grabbing objects and flinging them at the walls. “DAMN IT POTTER!!! Somehow your filthy friends came up with a way to fuck with my head! Well, it has to stop.” He stopped in the middle of the room, staring at the ceiling and shaking his fists threateningly. “DO YOU HEAR ME! It has to stop!” He stamped his foot. “Right now!”

“Erm… Draco?” Harry inched to the end of the bed cautiously. “I don’t think anyone can hear you.” He recoiled back at the slightly wild look the blond gave him.

“Potter,” he spoke through clenched teeth. “I understand with your pathetic Gryffindor attributes you are used to people fucking with your head and manipulating you to do your bidding. I am a Slytherin. We are taught curses at birth to ensure no one is stupid enough to try those types of machinations on us. I warn you now, when I discover which of your friends was foolish enough to…” He broke off, taking several deep breaths.

“You ok?” Harry ran his hand through his hair uncertainly. Debating on whether or not to approach the irate man in front of him.

Draco held up his hand, keeping his eyes closed; breathing deeply. When he finally opened his eyes, he looked calm. Eerily calm. “Potter,” he spoke pleasantly as he moved back to the bed and settled himself beneath the blankets. “We need to go back to sleep. Tomorrow is soon enough to plan how to properly destroy your idiot friends. Now, we must rest.” He patted the mattress invitingly.

“Erm…” Harry looked between the bed and the door. He knew which option he wanted to take, but felt he better make at least one token protest. “Maybe, since I’m awake now, I should just head back to the tower.”

“Don’t be silly.”

Shrugging, Harry crawled back into bed. He had offered to leave, after all. The boys lay there in silence, listening to the other breathe. “Draco?” he whispered into the darkness. “Are you really very mad that one of my friends decided we should be together?”

It was silent for a long time. Finally, Draco sighed, looped his arm around Harry’s waist, and pulled the boy closer. “If I thought they did it simply to make us happy, that would be one thing. But I am certain they had an ulterior motive, which pisses me off.”

“Oh.” They lay in silence a few more minutes. “Draco?” Harry whispered tentatively. “Does this, us, make you happy?”

A sigh. “Go to sleep, Potter.”

The morning was awkward. Draco let Harry borrow a set of his clothes, and performed a strong cleaning charm over Harry’s Gryffindor robe so he wouldn’t have to make an unscheduled dash up to Gryffindor Tower before breakfast. Then, walking out of the room, Draco stopped him with a hand on his arm, gave him a quizzical look, and kissed him. Hard. He stepped back, gave Harry a satisfied look, and said, “Hmm. Better than in the dreams. Interesting.” Before winking at Harry and sauntering towards the Great Hall with Harry trailing behind. 

They split at the doors, Harry sitting down at the Gryffindor table with a thump. Ron appeared moments later; sitting across from him and, like Harry, making no move to start eating. They sat there in slightly bewildered silence together. Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil chose that moment to enter the room. Both girls were giggling, wearing fake glasses, and carrying three books apiece. 

“Oh,” Lavender called out in an overly loud sing-songy voice. “I do so adore, umm,” she paused for a second, looking slightly panicked, before reading off a parchment before her. “I do so adore such pleasant excuses to gather in an informal and forthcoming environment to break my fast with such convivial individuals.” She looked quite proud of herself.

“Yes,” Parvati agreed, equally loudly. “I too relish these moments of togetherness where we can disregard contrived unpleasantness.” Still giggling, the girls exchanged smug looks before sitting down next to a slightly confused Seamus, Dean, and Colin.

The boys watched this interaction in silence. Ron turned to Harry once the girls were involved with their breakfast. “I think I’m engaged to Luna Lovegood.”

Harry stared at his friend. “I spent the night with Draco Malfoy.” They looked at each other, nodded once, and began eating breakfast.

And Hermione… Hermione entered the Great Hall late. Her hair was a wild fluffy mass around her pale face. There was a large purplish bruise on her neck, and a slightly wild look in her eyes as she sat next to the boys. Harry and Ron flinched when a slight but putrid odor invaded their nose. 

Hermione glared across the room towards the Ravenclaw table before violently scooping up a bit of eggs and slapping them onto her plate. “Don’t ask,” she snarled; reaching for the tea with a slightly shaking hand. “Kindly, do NOT ask!”


	6. Oops

Hermione yawned, blinking furiously as she forced her eyes to remain open. Against her will, almost without her knowledge, they slid shut again. It wasn’t until her head hit the parchment on the table in front of her that she jerked her head up; awake once again. It was after lunch now, and Hermione was taking advantage of her free period to hole up in the library to try to find a way out of her current predicament. She pouted to herself as she rearranged the books in front of her and forced her brain to concentrate. All she wanted was to get Ron to stop teasing her and for Harry and Draco to stop fighting! How was she to know that when she pulled people into the dreams those things would actually happen? 

She shifted in her seat guiltily. Ok, so she had known that Snape was affected by the dream… and she had known that making oblique references to things that happened in the dream made the boys blush and squirm. But aside from that she was completely innocent. Completely. Honestly, how could she have known, how could anyone have known, that Voldemort and his little Death Eaters would be sick and out of sorts after the Princess Bride incident. And, really, just who did Dumbledore and Snape think they were making her research her own form of revenge to figure out how to really hurt Voldemort on an alternate plane of reality before he figured out what was what? He could apply Occlumency all he wanted. Just like Harry couldn’t shut out his link to the mad man, he couldn’t shut down his link to Harry. If Harry was sucked into the book, so was Voldemort.

Brown eyes snapped wide open. When had she shut them again? Hermione shoved at her hair, moving it away from her heated cheeks. Why was the library so damn warm today? She yawned again, halfheartedly moving her ink bottle to the side as she rested her head against the blissfully cool surface of the table. Just for a minute. Within seconds she was snoring softly.

From the shadows, Luna smiled happily. One little sleeping draught mixed into the Muggle water bottle Hermione always carried with her and she was free to finish what she’d started last night. Harry and Draco were so close to being together and Ron… well. She smiled happily to herself as she cast a notice-me-not charm on the sleeping brunette and calmly strolled out of the library. Ron was taken care of. Besides, Hermione didn’t truly understand her boys. Invading their dreams was a brilliant idea, but the bushy haired Gryffindor really should leave the scheming to Ravenclaws. Especially ones who appreciated Lewis Carroll and Disney. 

Harry grumbled to himself as he got ready for bed that night. It was official: Draco was avoiding him. Oh sure, they passed in the corridors and even had some of the same classes together, but aside from the occasional smirk or superior look Draco never gave him more than a passing glance. He wouldn’t even fight with him for goodness sakes! And he certainly was not pouting over that fact. Not at all. He dearly wanted to vent to someone that would understand, like Hermione, but glances at the Marauders Map had shown her sitting in her favorite spot in the library. And Draco was nowhere near the library, so he had no excuse to go bug her. 

“Night Harry.”

He looked up, trading commiserating glances with his best friend. “Night Ron.” Luna had been missing all afternoon, which confused and unsettled the red head. Harry thought it was cute. Not that he would ever confess that out loud. With one deeper sigh, he put his glasses on the nightstand and pulled his bed hangings closed. He would just have to stalk the blond tomorrow. 

“POTTER!!!!!”

Harry jerked at the loud irate voice. He looked over and blinked at the sight before him, before looking down and blinking yet again. “I have fur,” he dazedly replied.

“Lovely,” Draco ground out through gritted teeth. “I’m wearing a dress. The question that intelligent individuals would be asking, however, is WHY I am wearing a DRESS in the first place! I thought your ridiculous little friend would have stopped this asinine charade as soon as she realized we weren’t declaring open war on each other.” Draco paced back and forth, his petticoat flouncing about as he turned sharply. “Obviously ignoring each other does nothing.” He nodded to himself, tossing a strand of long blond hair over his shoulder. “Tomorrow we will do a public declaration of affection. Are you capable of brushing your hair?”

“I have fur,” Harry repeated, still looking down at his body. 

Draco gave him an impatient look. “Yes, yes. You’re a bloody Cheshire cat. I get that. But look at me Harry. ME! I am wearing a dress. That is so not on! And this?” he gestured irritably. “What particular breed of moron would put a bow in the back of the dress?! My hips do not look like this!”

“I have fur.” Harry seemed to be having a great deal of trouble moving on. 

Gray eyes rolled in irritation. “Obviously I will have to brush your hair for you. I refuse to kiss you in public when your hair looks like a birds nest. Hmm. And those clothes… No matter, you can borrow mine until I can get my personal tailor to meet us in Hogsmead to take your measurements. Your regular clothes, of course, will have to be burnt; the ashes scattered and offered as sacrifice.” He looked around impatiently before reaching out and seizing Harry’s wrist in a firm grip. “Come along then. We will follow this trail and hopefully find a way out of your friend’s sick and twisted little mind.”

They’d walked for quite a ways – Draco swearing under his breath in both French and English, Harry… petting himself in fascination – before the sound of bickering made them turn to the left. “Oh thank Merlin!” Draco exclaimed breathlessly, catching a glimpse of an elaborate table set for tea through the trees. He quickened his step eagerly. “A proper tea; someone to help us.”

“…had nothing to do with this! I’ve been in the library all fucking afternoon!”

“Miss Granger,” Harry and Draco froze, exchanging wide eyed looks as they recognized the voice of their Potions professor. “If I have to give you detention for life, if I have to fail you in Potions and deny your graduation, if I have to write a scathing letter in regards to your academic prowess to every university of moderate accreditation, I will. Desist in this foolish nonsense at once!”

“But,” Hermione sounded close to tears, “but I promise! After the interrogation from you and Professor Dumbledore, I didn’t do anything! I’ve been researching all afternoon! You wouldn’t really fail me and slander my name would you?”

A weary sigh. “Miss Granger, you are wearing a strange hat, I have bunny ears…”

“Hare,” she interrupted sullenly. 

“Pardon?”

“I think I’m the Mad Hatter. That would make you the March Hare.”

A pause. “Be that as it may,” Draco and Harry exchanged another glance, as one beginning to back silently and cautiously away. “Have you anything else to add?”

Hermione sniffed. “Twinkle twinkle little bat, how I wonder where you’re at.”

They didn’t stick around to hear how Snape would respond to that; turning and fleeing with little grace and much haste. “What the hell is going on around here?” Draco fumed.

Suddenly, the scenery blurred around them and everything disappeared in a rush of wind. Harry and Draco clung together, closing their eyes to stave off the dizziness. When the motion stopped, they opened their eyes to find themselves in an elaborately tended garden. Where a trial of sorts was taking place.

Luna waved down at them cheerfully. “Hello boys! You’ll have to wait your turn!” She turned to the box where Bellatrix Lestrange was looking around in bewilderment. “Neville is my friend. Sorry. Next time, try to antagonize people who are not my friends, ok?” She waved a fancy wand covered in rubies in the air. “Off with her head!”

“Err… Luna?” A shortened version of Ron sat by her side and watched as a man wearing a shirt with a jack of hearts and a man wearing a shirt with a two of hearts led Bellatrix over to a guillotine. 

“Ron?” Luna smiled at him sweetly. “What did I tell you about interrupting me while I am at work?”

He looked at Harry. Harry shrugged. Looking back at Luna, Ron held up his hands helplessly. “Nothing.”

“Oh.” Luna blinked slowly. “That’s right, we haven’t discussed this yet.” She smiled brightly at Ron. He smiled back instinctively. “I forgive you for interrupting me.”

“Thank you.”

“Of course.” She waved her ruby wand regally. “Next!”

Draco grabbed Harry’s arm and led him to a row of wooden benches. “Potter,” he hissed. “Can’t you, just once, associate with the right sort of people?”

Harry yanked his arm out of Draco’s clutches irritably. “I think I’ve managed just fine with the friends I have! And Luna’s perfectly fine!” He watched in silence as a man wearing a ten of hearts shirt and a man wearing a three of hearts shirt led Voldemort to the confessional. “Mostly fine,” he amended. 

“Err…Luna?” Ron exchanged bewildered looks with Harry as he tried again. 

“Yes Ron?”

“What are you doing?”

“I’m working, honey.”

“Oh. Right.”

Luna smiled brightly at the snake faced man trying to wandlessly curse everyone in the crowd. “Nope, sorry. Harry was the very first friend I ever had. You made him sad when you killed his parents and that odd little Hufflepuff who played Quidditch and his Godfather. Next time, try not to make my friends sad, ok?” She waved her wand airily. “Off with… oh, wait.” She turned to smile down at Harry; politely choosing to ignore the way Draco was once again clinging to his arm. “Harry love? Perhaps you should say it.”

“Oh. Umm… ok. Off with his head?” He watched in fascinated silence as the two card wearing individuals took Voldemort to the guillotine as well.

“You know,” Draco eyed Luna warily. “Maybe you have a point. Perhaps I should befriend Loony.”

“She’s waving a wand and having people beheaded,” Harry offered quietly, watching as a still bickering Hermione and Snape were hauled into the box. “Perhaps you shouldn’t insult her.”

“Right.” Draco nodded decisively; turning to smile charmingly at the blonde. “Luna it is.”

Luna smiled dreamily at the couple so busy arguing they didn’t even really notice they’d been brought on trial. “The Mad Hatter murdered time, you know?” she offered conversationally.

Ron looked alarmed. “You’re not going to have them beheaded too, are you?”

“Of course not, Ron! Hermione is simply misguided and bossy, not evil.” Ron looked relieved. Luna pursed her lips thoughtfully. “No, someone who murders time should have a fitting punishment.” Her eyes lit up with excitement as she waved her wand enthusiastically. “Peter, Peter, Pumpkin eater, had a wife but couldn’t keep her. He put her in a pumpkin shell, and there he kept her very well!”

Hermione and Snape may not have noticed being put on trial, but they certainly noticed when they were unceremoniously magicked into a large pumpkin with only one window too small to crawl through for ventilation. Luna looked at Ron guiltily as the pumpkin was rolled away. “Technically that was Mother Goose. Can you forgive me for mixing up the storylines?”

“Err…sure.” Ron scratched his head as the sound of Hermione yelling and Snape cursing gradually faded into the background.

“So!” Luna clapped her hands in glee. “I’m ready for you now, Draco!”

“What?” Draco tightened his hold on Harry’s arm. “Why?”

Luna looked regretful. “Well, you’re not dating Harry yet, so it won’t make him too terribly sad if you are found guilty of your crimes.”

“But I am wearing a dress!” Draco wailed. “I can’t die looking like this!”

“We’re dating,” Harry hastily offered, linking their fingers together. Luna looked dubious. Harry brought their joined fingers to his mouth and kissed Draco’s knuckles.

“Hmm.” Luna still looked indecisive. 

“Potter that’s not how you convince someone we’re dating!” Draco hissed out before turning, straddling Harry, and bringing their lips together. 

Ron blinked; watching as Harry’s hands slid up Draco’s thighs and under his skirt to haul the blond closer. The Slytherin groaned, rocking his hips in encouragement as he pulled away from the kiss far enough to bite down on Harry’s lower lip. Ron continued to watch as Draco licked Harry’s bottom lip. It wasn’t until the blonds’ tongue entered Harry’s mouth and Harry let out a strangled sounding moan that Ron tore his eyes away from the sight and turned to his smiling girlfriend. “Should we be watching this?”

Luna smiled brightly. “It’s a beautiful thing, Ron.”

“Well,” Ron rubbed the palms of his hands on his thighs nervously. “Well sure it is. But Harry’s like my brother. It’s just wrong watching him make out with someone you know? Especially Malfoy.”

“Fine.” Luna pouted slightly before waving her bejeweled wand to gain their attention.

Both boys ignored her; Draco rocking his hips in earnest now. “Harry,” he groaned as Harry pulled the collar of his dress down far enough to bite his collarbone. Draco’s hands wandered down Harry’s neck and back. “Your fur is so soft!”

“Umm, mate?”

Harry ignored Ron in favor of gripping Draco’s hips tighter and sucking on his earlobe. “Love your hands on me,” he declared. “Want to kiss you forever.”

“Harry? I believe you.”

Draco ignored Luna, completely lost as Harry’s hands moved just a bit to the left and he saw stars. “Forever,” he agreed absently; fisting a handful of Harry’s hair and pulling him close for another kiss.

“Forever?” Luna perked up happily. 

Ron gave her a wary look. “I don’t think…”

“Nonsense!” Luna waived off his objections before pointing her wand at the two distracted boys. “Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious!” A soft blue glow surrounded the boys. Both ignored it as Harry toppled them over onto the ground.

“What does that mean?”

Luna shrugged. “Who knows?”

“What does that do?”

“Who knows?”

“Oh. Right.”

Harry woke up the next morning and stretched languidly. He felt so relaxed, so perfectly content, that he wanted to stay in bed. But he couldn’t. Because today he had to get Draco to stop ignoring him. Ron kept sending him nervous, slightly wary, looks as they got dressed. “Everything all right Harry?”

“Just fine Ron!” Harry grinned at his friend as they walked to breakfast. He was a bit surprised that Hermione wasn’t with them, but shrugged it off. She was probably still in the library, poor thing. “We should do something nice for Hermione, Ron. She works really hard.”

Ron shrugged. “Whatever. We’ll get her flowers or something.”

Harry snickered. “Perhaps a talking day planner like she got us for Christmas a couple years ago.”

Draco was, oddly enough, leaning elegantly against a pillar in front of the Great Hall. Harry grinned when he saw him, hurrying to his side. Draco shook his head disparagingly. “I knew you would be unable to brush your own hair.” He gave the ceiling a ‘why me’ look. “No matter, let’s get the public display over with, and then your meddlesome little friends will mind their own business.”

He grabbed Harry, pulling him close and kissing him soundly before stepping away and turning towards the Slytherin table. He paused by the Ravenclaw table, offering a cautious nod. “Luna.”

“Good morning Draco!”

Harry sat at the Gryffindor table, smiling to himself and blushing slightly from the increased attention of his classmates. “You and Malfoy, huh?” Ron sighed.

“Yep. You and Luna?”

“Seems so. Do I have to start calling him Draco?”

“Nah. You can still call him Malfoy.”

“Thank goodness for small favors.” The two friends smiled at each other before returning to their meal.

It wasn’t until the morning post arrived and an official letter from the Ministry of Magic fell into his lap that Harry stopped smiling. He read the parchment, green eyes widening with shock and alarm. His shout reverberated through the room. “What do you mean Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious is an ancient wedding incantation!”

Draco dropped his fork; staring slack jawed across the room. Luna smiled apologetically as she finished a bite of porridge. “Oops.”


End file.
